Even though it was 40 degrees when I left my house this morning, and school starts up again next week, I categorically refuse to believe that Fall is here already.
I love Fall, don’t get me wrong. Usually I welcome the crispness of the air, the turning leaves and the turtlenecks. But this year, I’m not ready to dig out the corduroy just yet.
We’ve had a mild summer, to say the least. I’ve heard lots of people complain that it was too cold, too rainy. After living in Western Colorado for a few years, where the mercury rises into the triple digits all too often and even a 90 percent chance of precipitation isn’t enough to guarantee rain, I can live with those things. My complaint is that it was too short. Or maybe I just didn’t make the most of it.
While I started out the spring with big plans to play golf every week, that’s petered out a bit, especially now that my league is over. I barely made use of that new patio set, and failed to light the barbecue even once. My tennis racquet is in the back of my car, but I have yet to pop open that new sleeve of balls.
And so much for going to the beach. The last time I wore my swim suit was in Florida back in May. I wonder if the sunscreen I stocked up on at the beginning of the season will still be good next year. I’ve got plenty left.
I vowed to go camping this summer, but haven’t made it yet. But at least I’ll make up for that this weekend when I tag along with the Farrell’s (my clan of cousins) on their annual camping trip in the Catskills. Three days of hiking, cooking out, campfire stories and good old fashioned bonding – I can’t wait.
I’m still not ready to admit that summer is (almost) over. I’d prefer to think of this is merely a cold spell, and keep hoping that we’ll have at least a few more weeks of warmth and sun before the leaves start to change.
And between now and when the first snow flakes fly, I’ll take advantage of every ounce of good weather to play outside.